


Jealousy

by kissingcullens



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Jealousy, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-06
Updated: 2015-11-06
Packaged: 2018-04-30 06:01:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,317
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5152946
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kissingcullens/pseuds/kissingcullens
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>On the Great American Road trip, Steve gets lucky... and Sam gets jealous.<br/>Re-posted from tumblr, apologies for the rambling format-</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

      Every now and then Steve and Sam go out to dive bars together when they stop on the great American Road Trip  
And one night Sam’s like, nah I don’t really feel like it, so Steve goes by himself-  
and Sam’s like, what’s the point, can’t you not get drunk?

     Steve laughs. "Sure, that doesn’t mean I can’t enjoy the ambience" (cheesy grin) "Sure you don’t wanna go?"  
And Sam’s like nah maybe I’ll catch up with you later, I’m gonna take a shower—  
After he gets out of the shower, Sam starts feeling a little cooped-up and lonely, so he does end up going down to the bar

    And he sees Steve is totally putting the moves on this guy- olive skin, great smile- all smiling and leaning into his personal space and laughing softly at something he’d said and damn Steve is a smooth bastard, Sam’s getting hit with the charm from all the way over here-

    Sam, to his shame, watches for a while, trying to tamp down the gnawing jealousy in his stomach

    They’re just friends, okay? Okay, Steve’s flirty and there’s definitely a base attraction there— and maybe SAM knows he'd like them to be more, is pretty sure Steve would too- but it’s been sort of silently agreed that that’s not where they are;  
Steve’s allowed to hook up- to…. pick someone up… it’s none of his business.

    But it doesn’t make him feel any better, and he’s ashamed that he stays up, hoping Steve strikes out and comes back to say goodnight-  
even more ashamed at how he feels when he gets woken up by the sounds coming from Steve’s room (damn this motel is cheap, these walls should NOT be this thin) and the bitter, hot jealousy fizzles through his body  
And at the same time as he can’t help but be impressed and bizarrely annoyed at having his suspicions confirmed about Steve’s apparent sexual prowess

.....

    And he feels like total shit, but that doesn’t stop him from shamefully closing his eyes and listening to Steve’s performance- it’s more salt on an open wound than sexy, but it’s still fucking sexy-

    And maybe he’s torturing himself for being hung up on a guy he’s not ready to put a claim on...-  
Or maybe it’s that he knows no matter how it hurts now, the sudden full, throaty groan Steve makes when he comes is gonna feature heavily in his masturbatory fantasies from now on, so why fight it?

    After they finally (FINALLY) quiet down, Sam rolls over and tries to breathe through the dull, achey emptiness of his jealousy and the somewhat unreasonable annoyance with Steve for bringing a guy back at all, and for not being more fucking quiet—  
But that’s silly, it’s not Steve’s fault Sam’s jealous- and he certainly had no way of knowing how ridiculously not-soundproof the structure is.

    Sam is gonna be a friend tomorrow, after he’s had a few hours sleep and he can be happy for Steve like he would be for any bro who got lucky the night before.  He has no reason to be jealous.

    So he’s not gonna be jealous.

    The next morning Steve’s neck has bloomed into several impressive hickies that Sam imagines will have faded to nothing in a day or two, though he’s wearing a hoodie that almost hides them.

“You have a good night??” Steve asks, too brightly-  
    “Pretty uneventful.” Sam replies.

Steve visibly relaxes and Sam can't resist. He tips his sunglasses down and looks up knowingly at Steve. "I heard YOU had a good night though.“

    Steve’s face falls, then twists in a mix of regret, embarrassment, and self-deprecating amusement-  
"Ah… You uh... you heard that, huh-”

Sam just raises his eyebrows at him and Steve actually goes a little red.

    “I’m really sorry," Steve blurts. "I didn’t realize how thin the walls were until this morning– the guy in the room next door sneezed and it was like he was in the room with me.”

    Sam laughs and Steve goes even redder but grins sheepishly-  
This is going well, he’s mostly got his bad feelings in check, and he doesn’t think he’s coming off passive-aggressive or over-interested…. Just a friend.  
Giving a friend a little bit of crap about having what had sounded like a spectacular night of casual sex. Totally fun.

He really, really wants this to not be weird.

    “It’s fine, man, it’s not like I NEED my beauty sleep- (here he throws an exaggeratedly wounded look at Steve) congrats though, your guy have a name?”

    “Yeah- it’s Enrique, he’s here for a music fest- plays drums.”

    This is already way more than Sam wanted to know about tall, dark, and dimples with the tattoo sleeve and the nice smile. He's sorry he brought it up at all.

    “Cool, man- eyyy, Captain America’s got GAME, no one’ll believe me when I tell'em-”  
Steve swats his arm playfully and they laugh, Sam telling himself this is fine. It’s all fine.

....................

Turns out they get a lead on Bucky’s whereabouts and they end up staying a few days at the motel following it up.

Which means they see Enrique, you know, the drummer, again.

    It’s obvious that Steve’s a little hesitant about hanging out with both Enrique and Sam at the little dive bar-  
-And he seems aware of the humor in introducing the guy Sam heard him having loud, athletic sex with all night as “the guy I met yesterday- you know, the drummer"

And Sam’s annoyed that he’s annoyed that Enrique is a really nice guy- but of course he is, Steve has impeccable taste, doesn’t he?

Besides being super hot, he’s considerate and nice, engaging Sam in conversation and making sure he doesn’t feel like a third wheel-

Talking and joking with Sam like he’s not just ACHING to get another round or three of Captain America’s sex.

Which he totally is, that’s clear. Not that Sam can blame him.

It’s obvious the way Enrique’s in Steve’s space the whole time they’re at the bar.  
Nothing too overt, but a definite expression of interest and a promise- intimate, subtle foreplay.

Sam notices of course.

    The hand around the back of his chair, the lingering touches, the hand on the elbow- the knee, the thigh- his eyes lingering too long and satisfied on the already-fading hickies on Steve’s throat. It makes his stomach flip and he wants to be far away.

    Steve’s smile, reciprocating the physical affection, leaning into the arm around the back of his chair to say things in Enrique’s ear, then looking at Sam with the sunny "treaured best friend” smile that he’d thought was enough for him until now-  
Until he realized how much it hurt to see that other smile shine on someone else.  
How he’d do anything to be the one exchanging those secretive little smiles with Steve- to be the one putting a hand on his leg, his back, his neck- silently promising that it would be worth the wait once they got back home.

    Sam makes the best of it- drinks maybe a touch too much, but it makes him gregarious-  
He even gets caught up in discussing music- he and Enrique both getting excited about Janelle Monae and gently making fun of Steve for his musical ignorance- and Sam thinks he could really like this dude if he wasn’t desperately jealous of the fact that Enrique was fucking his best friend and Sam wasn’t.

    And Sam almost convinces himself that he’s happy for Steve when they leave the bar and Steve coughs and says he’s gonna go back to Enrique’s motel room to play a couple rounds of cards- and Enrique looks like butter wouldn’t melt in his mouth when he says that he hopes Steve has stepped up his Poker game since yesterday-

    And Sam wants to snap that they don’t have to make up a cover story: he heard this dude calling Steve “daddy” at 4 in the morning last night- but he just says good night and even summons up the spunk to wink at Steve- who rolls his eyes.

    Afterwards he goes for a long, long walk to cool his head and try not to think about things, but not thinking about things just leads him irresistably to the one thought he can’t unthink: he’s completely, totally, assbackwards in love with Steve.

Shit.

   The next day he’s treated to a particularly mellow and loveable Steve YAWNING as they get in the car  
Steve is looking more relaxed than Sam’s seen him in months- more bites and hickies mar Steve’s neck and he thanks Sam for volunteering to drive first.  
“I was up late-” He smiles- and he even has the sass to look smugly to Sam for applause-

    “Right on, Cap.” He says, forcing a grin and just wondering what the hell he’s gonna do.


	2. Chapter 2: Steve

    Steve wakes with a violent start. He stares a moment at the skyline whipping by; 1940s France in a jeep.  
The sun is hot and he has a sudden nonsensical fear that he’s skipped forward into the future again, millions of years, when the sun is closer to the earth and he’s being swallowed up in the heat-death of the universe.

    He scowls and thinks even that probably wouldn’t rate him a day off.  
It’s the low sound of the radio that relaxes him into the present, and he listens for a while, looking at Sam, who’s staring at the road, his face drawn and unhappy when he doesn’t think Steve can see.

    “Is this Marvin Gaye?”  
Steve knows it’s not, but he’s taken to pretending he thinks every artist (from Michael Jackson to Metallica) is Marvin Gaye: it always makes Sam smile- and he’s not disappointed- Sam’s face breaks into a grin and he shakes his head,

    “I know you didn’t just confuse The Stones with Marvin Gaye. Even you wouldn't commit that kind of sacrilege.”

    Steve stretches and blinks himself fully awake, trying to remember his dream- Right- Peggy shooting him in the shield “to see if it worked.” But the dream had been more about the overwhelming feeling of having messed up something good.

    “How ya doin, Sleeping Beauty?”  
Steve hums and leans forward to fiddle with the radio, a hot, prickly rush of embarrassment washing over him again as he tries not to think about what Sam must have heard the other night. They’d kept busy the past week since it had happened, but his mind is constantly bringing up unwelcome, vivid reminders of just exactly what Sam probably overheard.

    Steve really would rather have jumped out of a twenty story window again than have put Sam through that.

Because Steve’s not completely naive. He knows there’s something between he and Sam that neither of them has felt ready to bring out into the open.

Now, as he and Sam make stilted conversation while he hunts for a decent radio station, Steve wonders, not for the first time, if he’s fucked everything up.

    But it’s not like he actually did anything wrong, right?  
Peggy’s disappointed face floats through his head. “How do I know you’re not… fonduing?”

   No. He fucked up.  He fucked up big, and he fucked up twice.  The air between him and Sam is awkward and heavy, both trying too hard for nonchalance.  The idea that he may have screwed up this... thing he and Sam have is enough to make him feel sick to his stomach.  
  
Steve knows a lot of people look down on casual sex as empty, sordid. But he doesn’t feel that way at all.

What made him notice Enrique was his shy little smile- he’d ordered Steve a drink and then looked like he couldn’t believe his own nerve, terrified when Steve had come over to sit next to him. Then he’d opened up so joyfully into the sexy anticipation of flirting and talking, and later… well.

Sex is a welcome change from what he does on a daily basis: the brutality and the constant suspicion. Sex is trusting and playful and he can, for once, feel like his body is good for something besides bearing and inflicting pain.

And it’s FUN- Steve doesn’t understand why people seem unable to equate sex with innocence and purity, or why they assume he’s a virgin because he acts a certain way or he’s from a certain time.

The first time Steve had met Sam he’d been putting the moves on hard- the gap in Sexy Jogger’s teeth, his apple-cheeked smile, his wry humor and firm handshake- Steve couldn’t stop himself from flirting.

But then things had gotten deep.

For the past few months he’s been telling himself that it’s not a good time- he’s not sure how he feels, if he’s ready— after all, they practically live in each other’s pockets, what if it goes wrong?

He had thought a random hookup wouldn’t mean anything. Definitely not cheating, nothing to hide or be ashamed of.. and anyway, nothing Sam would have to know about.

But this past week, with his conscience weighing on him and Sam’s forced cheerfulness filling up the car til it was hard to breathe, he feels like what he’s really been doing is ignoring what was clearly right in front of him because he’s scared.

And Steve Rogers has never once run from a fight in his life… especially not for something so worth fighting for.

“We should grab a drink later when we stop.” Steve finally says, and holds his breath a little.  
“Sure, Cap.” Sam smiles and looks at him sideways, “Tired of being on the road already?”  
“Not that exactly, I’m just ready for something different.”

Steve begins to contemplate how this is gonna go, because he knows it’s his move and he’s wasted enough of their time on indecision.  
His mind is made up.


End file.
